


Ode to Clarke

by Combatboots



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Clarke got a dirty mouth, Clarke is like a sack of potatoes, Clarke think she sneaky, F/F, Fingering, Lexa got some dirty talk too tho, Lexa has a legacy, Oral Sex, Smut, Spanking, Them tiddies is magic, please read we worked so long, pubic hair is mentioned, she not, such gay, tiddies, very fluff, we used the word mound
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-19
Updated: 2016-12-19
Packaged: 2018-09-09 22:15:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8915020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Combatboots/pseuds/Combatboots
Summary: Clarke misbehaves but she doesn't get the punishment she's expecting.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Clarke is stubborn, but Lexa is smart.

**Ode to Clarke**

 

It had commenced somewhere in between the starter and the main course. The touching. The barely there grazes against Lexa's thighs, the barest seconds of squeezing fingers at her knee. Nothing too difficult to hide with a rigid back and a passive face. But then, the main course was over and with the sweetness of dessert came the torture. Clarke's fingers drifting to the sensitive area behind Lexa’s knee. Her grazes moving ever upwards, daringly, shamelessly. Commander Lexa, in full regalia, trying to host a formal dinner with not only her Ambassadors, but the clan leaders too. Commander Lexa trying to keep the flush out of her cheeks, and the wobble from her lips, as Ambassador Griffin deigns to tease her with one single, errant hand under the table. Right where it shouldn't be in a setting like this. And, if she’s totally honest with herself, right where Lexa wants it.

Lexa gulps and tries to appear as though she is paying attention to the conversations around the table. Really, she is watching Clarke intently out of the corner of her eye, and Lexa chokes back a tut at the way Clarke swallows an innocent spoonful of light and fluffy sponge cake, as if her hand isn’t venturing dangerously close to the heat between Lexa’s legs. Lexa attacks her own dessert with vigor now, hoping that the food may be enough of a distraction. It is a poor move, and Lexa nearly chokes on the cake in her mouth as Clarke’s fingers find her center. Clarke is insistent enough despite the public setting, pressing firmly against Lexa’s jeans, offering enough friction to rile Lexa up. And that is exactly what Clarke is trying to do. Lexa is sure of it. She knows what her niron is after. Clarke wants to get the Commander all pent up, and then let Heda have her way with her devious Ambassador. Lexa also knows that Clarke normally gets her way when she plays these risky little games.

Clarke has put on quite the spectacular performance this evening, Lexa will give her that. She hasn’t been content with getting Lexa riled up with her touch alone. Oh no, Clarke always goes several better. It’s one of the things Lexa adores about her, that gritty determination. Though right at this minute, with Clarke’s hand still cupping her now soaked pussy through her jeans, Lexa thinks it might also be one of Clarke’s least favourable attributes. Clarke has spent the whole evening rolling her eyes, slouching in her seat, knowing full well that the Commander has observed every error, that Lexa has kept a mental tally of just how many slips in proper etiquette she'll have to punish Clarke for later. The wandering hand is, and Lexa struggles not to snort at her own cleverness as the thought occurs to her, just the icing on Clarke’s cake.

Lexa observes unseen as Clarke picks up a chunk of her dessert and tosses it into her mouth, the very picture of rude and uncouth. Lexa is about to make a comment, when her words falter, or rather the words are overtaken by Lexa’s heart as it leaps into the back of her throat at the feeling of Clarke’s fingertips expertly seeking out her clit even through the thick fabric. Clarke must have known she was about to snap the Commander’s resolve, must have been able to sense Lexa’s trembles despite Lexa’s best efforts to still them. She is making Lexa pay dearly for her lack of composure. The sensation of Clarke’s fingers starting to rub firm circles against her doesn’t snap Lexa’s resolve, but sends it soaring far away as if launched by a catapult. The Commander whips her head towards Clarke and Lexa is greeted by a bright, effortlessly coy smile.

“Is everything alright, Heda?” Clarke asks quietly, and Lexa is relieved that her niron is not quite silly enough to try and catch the attention of the whole table.

“Fine,” Lexa almost growls and that does stop the various other dinner conversations. The couple find themselves at the center of attention.

Lexa works her jaw, tries to fight back her composure. She thinks she might manage it, and then Clarke's fingers are replaced by the heel of her palm, the hard contact against Lexa’s aching clit dulled by the fabric of her jeans but no less breathtaking. Whatever else Lexa was going to say, the words fizzle to nothing. It's Clarke's final strike.

Lexa sits straight again and adjusts her grip on her fork. She attacks her cake with fervor, pushing through how full she is from the other two courses and shovelling bite after bite into her mouth. When she is done, she drops her fork onto her plate with an unseemly clatter and makes a grab for her napkin. She is still wiping her mouth clean as she bolts up out of her chair, breaking free at last from the touch of Clarke's torturous hand. Lexa surveys her dinner guests.

“Honored guests, it has been a pleasure dining with you tonight,” Lexa clicks out. “Please, do not stop eating on my account. Stay and finish your meals, I'm sure you'll agree that the cake is delicious. I am afraid that I must leave earlier than expected, there is some urgent business that I must attend to that I just now remembered.”

If any of the guests have their suspicions, none of them are brave enough to voice them. They all begin to stand up, to offer a polite bow to their Heda as she makes her leave of the dining room. Lexa turns on her heel and sweeps away even before allowing them to finish making the customary gesture of respect. She gets about halfway down the corridor on legs that are shaking with lust, when Lexa hears rushed footsteps behind her. Lexa takes a deep breath and slows her pace to allow Clarke to make it to her side.

“You left in a hurry,” Clarke states, as if she wasn't the very reason for Lexa running from the meal early.

Lexa doesn’t respond at first. Instead, she silently spins and edges right in on Clarke's personal space with a severe expression. Lexa's green eyes burn into Clarke's, the Commander’s lips part just slightly, suggesting the unspoken warnings that pass across the mere inches between their faces. When Lexa does speak, her voice is cool. As chilling as she can make it. “And whose fault is that, Ambassador?”

Clarke gives Lexa an innocent grin, “I’ve no idea what you mean, Lex,” her tone is nonchalant. It’s difficult for Lexa not to think it adorable rather than infuriating.

Lexa holds Clarke’s eyes, her stare relentless. “You know what you did Ambassador, and for that you’ll have to be punished,” Lexa growls, knowing that it is exactly what Clarke wants to hear, even if it’s not what Clarke is going to be getting. Lexa isn’t letting herself be played like a street entertainer’s fiddle today. “You acted recklessly, without decorum, you know better than that!” Lexa hisses. With that, she closes the rest of the distance between them and sweeps Clarke up off the floor, tossing her over her shoulder and carrying her like a sack of potatoes the rest of the way to the elevator.

When the pair are safely ensconced in the elevator, Clarke isn't content to stay silent for the journey up to their room. This unruly sack of potatoes has quite the mouth on her and the words come out in a purr, “Lex, you know you’re irresistible in full Heda gear. You look so good. You'd be even better naked, but this is amazing too,” Clarke says.

Lexa wonders if she’s trying to earn her punishment early, before they’ve even made it to their room. She adjusts her grip on her niron as Clarke wriggles on Lexa’s shoulder, and Lexa frowns at the sensation of the tail of her coat being gathered up to her waist by Clarke’s grasping hands.

“Clarke, what do you think you’re doing?” Lexa asks tersely.

“I want to touch you,” Clarke responds as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. She pushes her luck, “Lexa, have you seen your ass? It's just so perfect. You’re fucking gorgeous. I can't help myself, I had to touch you in there under the table. Had to rile you up so you’d leave early.”

Clarke eventually seems to realise that Lexa’s coat is fastened far too tightly for her to get her hands anywhere near the waistband of Lexa’s pants. Lexa allows herself a goofy grin at the small victory, safe in the knowledge that Clarke cannot see her smiling from her current position over Lexa’s shoulder. But then, Lexa is underestimating Clarke’s innate perceptiveness to her mood. Clarke speaks again, voice even raspier now to wipe the smile from Lexa’s face, “I need you so bad babe, and I know you’re dying to punish me, to teach me some manners, aren’t you?”

Lexa stays silent for a beat, considering her response. She knows she can’t cave and give Clarke what she wants. Not again. Not after letting herself be swayed so many times before. “All of my previous efforts to teach you manners and etiquette have failed, Ambassador. Tonight I have other plans for you. Plans that I think will truly teach you your lesson,” Lexa finishes as the elevator reaches their floor. She prays that inspiration will hit by the time she’s carried Clarke into the bedroom.

“Lex, what do you mean ‘other plans’?” Clarke asks, and Lexa hears the slight quiver in Clarke’s voice. A quiver that tells Lexa that now is her best chance to wrestle the upper hand and not let it go again for the rest of today. The answer dawns on her then, as she paces down the corridor. Clarke wants her punishment to go her way, and her way is rough and hard and bruising. The cruelest thing Lexa can do is to be the very opposite of all those things. Perhaps it is time to remind Clarke that compassion is one of the pillars of being Commander, as well as strength.

With a plan formulating in her mind, Lexa eagerly kicks open the door to their bedroom, and finally gives Clarke her answer, “Nothing bad, niron, just something a little different. If a teacher can see that their lessons are not being taken in, it is their prerogative to adjust their teaching style. I think you’ll enjoy what I have in mind,” she says wisely.

“I remember taking you in very well in my previous lessons, actually,” Clarke retorts and Lexa can imagine the scowl she must have upon her beautiful face.

Lexa doesn't try to mask her laughter, she lets the bright and musical noise fill the room. “I love how much you make me laugh, Clarke,” she fawns, giving a totally unaware Clarke her first taste of ‘something a little different’.

“Aw, that's sweet of you, babe. I--” Clarke starts to say, much more sweetly, before she falters, “Wait, what?”

Lexa snorts as she reaches the bed, and she removes Clarke from her shoulder and lays her niron gently down onto the mattress. As softly and lovingly as she might tuck a sleepy Clarke into bed. Lexa grins down at her niron.

“I said that I love how much you make me laugh,” Lexa repeats, taking off her coat, boots and socks. She rids Clarke of her foot attire too, before the sight of shoes on the furs makes her twitch. With that done, Lexa hops onto the bed to straddle Clarke.

Clarke frowns up at Lexa, adorably confused. Lexa knows Clarke was expecting, was wanting, Heda. But she’s getting soft and tender.

Lexa giggles, actually giggles, and says, “I love your forehead wrinkles when you frown or concentrate,” Lexa punctuates her words with a kiss to those very wrinkles, bending at the waist so that her face is above Clarke’s.

Clarke's frown shifts into a lazy grin, “Lex, I know what you're doing,” she wisens up at last, grabbing Lexa's cheeks. Lexa allows herself to be pulled closer. Clarke squints at her, “I know because I've already done it, babe. And you can't do it better than me,” she claims.

Lexa quirks an eyebrow in challenge. “I just want to make you feel as special as you made me feel that night,” Lexa whispers, and she closes the distance between them, bringing her plump lips to kiss Clarke's smug smile, kissing Clarke slow and deep, sneaking her tongue inside Clarke's mouth, humming in satisfaction when she feels Clarke shudder beneath her. Lexa pulls away just far enough to whisper, “And besides, I think you'll find I'm just as good as you, niron.”

Clarke pouts at her, “It was still my idea first,” she mumbles in protest. Though she is arguing her point to the last, Lexa can see Clarke’s cheeks burning from the adoration being so openly shown to her.

“It was. And an excellent idea at that,” Lexa doesn’t try to argue back, she just beams down at Clarke, their faces so close that their noses brush. “After all, you are so intelligent Clarke. And you inspire and challenge me every day. I love that so much.”

Lexa’s words make Clarke’s face scrunch up in embarrassment. Lexa laughs at the way Clarke’s adorable nose crinkles as Clarke blushes, and so Lexa makes it her next target. She presses a gentle peck to the bridge of Clarke’s nose, and then another on the tip. “I adore your nose,” Lexa mumbles.

Lexa peppers kisses lower, to the small mole just above Clarke’s lips. She starts by kissing all around it before finally placing a sweet, open mouthed kiss right on the beauty spot. “I love your beauty spot, Clarke. I don’t even think I can say why,” Lexa muses, shifting her head so that her mouth is hovering right above Clarke’s as she whispers out the words. “Maybe it’s because it always draws my focus to your mouth, to that gorgeous, pursed top lip that always seems to be asking to be sucked and bitten.”

“Well you’re free to do that any time, babe,” Clarke whines out, clearly desperate for Lexa to lower her face those last few centimeters to kiss Clarke properly on the mouth again. “Right now, would be nice, actually.”

Lexa chuckles, “Yes, and I am fortunate for that, but I’m not going to right now, love,” she teases, “I remember you made me wait quite some time for the things I wanted. Fair’s fair, Clarke.”

“This isn’t my idea of fair at all,” Clarke huffs.

Lexa raises an eyebrow at that. “Then now would be a pertinent time to remind you that this is still your punishment, Ambassador. And what you think is, or is not, fair is of no concern to me,” Lexa hisses back, giving Clarke just a taste of what she wants, a brief flash of Heda, before Lexa’s face softens again. “I do love it when you get petulant, niron. I love the fire you get in your voice when you are talking about something you feel strongly for,” Lexa finishes, skipping Clarke’s lips in favor of planting a chaste kiss to Clarke’s chin dimple.

Lexa hears Clarke sigh at Lexa’s deliberate skipping of her lips, and Clarke stubbornly keeps the frown on her face. Lexa knows exactly what Clarke’s doing. She doesn’t doubt for a moment that Clarke is struggling to hold back a smile. She also knows that Clarke will use all of her considerable willpower to hold that smile back for as long as physically possible. She’s going to make Lexa work for it and Lexa is more than happy to step up to that challenge. Lexa lifts her head up from Clarke’s chin to grin at Clarke like her frowny face is in fact the most beautiful thing on the planet. And then Lexa reaches up with a hand and glides her fingers through Clarke’s hair ever so gently, relishing in it’s softness against her fingers.

“Your hair is beautiful, Clarke. I love the way it catches the sunlight and turns golden. It always makes you easy to spot in a crowd. And in the morning, when the first rays of sun shine into the bedroom, you glow like the stars you were born among.” Lexa wraps a finger around an errant curl, feeling like she could go on talking about Clarke’s hair for hours. “I love your little golden curls,” she coos.

Clarke smirks at Lexa’s words, “You know, I’ve got golden curls someplace other than my head, babe,” she hints.

Lexa rolls her eyes, “Yes Clarke, I am well aware. If you can behave I might have something to say about them too. Although I do love your attitude, you always say what’s on your mind.”

Clarke narrows her eyes and huffs loudly at being out-maneuvered yet again. It must be quite unusual for Clarke to have Lexa in the mood to play infuriating games for once.

Lexa cups Clarke’s cheeks in her hands, long fingers caressing the soft skin there. “Your face is my favorite. So beautiful. These cheeks,” Lexa runs a thumb down one of Clarke’s cheekbones and over Clarke’s lips, “Your lips. The first time I saw you, you took my breath away with your beauty. I’ll never know how I kept myself from gasping, sitting there on my throne trying to look intimidating. And when I saw your gorgeous blue eyes staring back at me, with not a trace of fear in them, I knew I was done for. Eyes the color of the sky, as blue as the warmest day of summer. And you have brought so much warmth into my life, Clarke.”

Now Clarke just stares up into Lexa’s green eyes, biting her lower lip. Lexa feels a rush of pride at being the cause of Clarke’s speechlessness, but the pride is quickly washed away by a yearning sensation deep in Lexa’s gut, as she notices the awe, the undeniable devotion, in Clarke’s eyes. Lexa cannot bear being looked at like that too long, and so she takes it as her signal to move onto the next stage of her exploration of Clarke’s body.

Lexa dips her head again and this time she presses her lips to Clarke’s neck, right by her jaw. It earns her a delighted gasp. She knows it’s one of Clarke’s favorite places to be kissed. Lexa pulls her lips away from Clarke’s soft skin just enough to speak, “I love how sensitive you are here, how proudly you wear my marks, how much you enjoy being marked,” Lexa whispers, before dropping lower to Clarke’s throat, sucking and nipping with more purpose and intensity, leaving a faint mark on Clarke’s neck. She smiles as one of Clarke's hands buries itself in Lexa's hair, encouraging Lexa to stay right where she is.

Lips never leaving Clarke's neck, Lexa's nimble fingers find the buttons of Clarke's shimmery, blue dress shirt. The material is soft under Lexa's fingers, but she knows the pale skin of her lover is softer, and she is eager to get her hands on it. Lexa skillfully pops each button, sucking harder at Clarke's neck, biting the delicate skin there. Lexa pulls her lips away, leaving another, darker love bite behind, as the last button comes undone. With the material pushed aside, Lexa sweeps her hands over Clarke's tummy, lets them wander here and there over Clarke's torso “I love your stomach, niron, your skin is so soft.” Lexa tickles along Clarke's ribs, grinning when Clarke squirms, “I love how ticklish you are, and I love this,” Lexa says, leaning in and blowing raspberries on Clarke's pillow-soft belly. Clarke squirms, belly rolling with vibrations as Lexa blows on it. Miraculously however, Clarke is stubborn enough not to laugh at the ticklish sensation. Lexa blows harder, until her lungs burn from a lack of oxygen, until she eventually calls it quits. She'll get her smile some other way.

Lexa replaces her mouth with her hands and glides them upwards, fingers teasing the underside of Clarke's bra, but going no further. Instead Lexa sits back on her heels and takes Clarke in. Blue shirt unbuttoned, breasts covered in a black bra, and so much of Clarke's creamy skin on display. So much, but not enough.

Lexa thumbs at Clarke's opened shirt. “Off,” she barks the word out, and the response is immediate. Clarke bolts upright at hearing something closer to what she's after, and Lexa watches in obvious enjoyment as Clarke obediently strips her shirt off and slings the garment aside, a smirk on her face.

“I knew you'd get tired of waiting for these,” Clarke husks victoriously, and Clarke’s hands immediately reach behind her own back, no doubt looking to unfasten her bra. Lexa wraps her own arms about Clarke and catches Clarke's hands just in time.

“No,” Lexa breathes, “your instruction was to remove your shirt and nothing else. Now move your hands away and lie back down,” she spells each word out with a snarl.

There is a beat where Lexa thinks Clarke might disobey her, and then Clarke relents and does as she's been asked. With her niron lying before her once more, Lexa takes in the wonderful sight, almost spoiled for choice as to where to love next. She chooses Clarke's wonderful, prominent collarbones and dips her head to nip harshly at their outline until Clarke is hissing in pleasure, chest heaving and pushing up against Lexa's chin with every breath in. “You're so gorgeous, Clarke,” Lexa whispers when she has finished tracing the definition of Clarke's collar. She sucks a deep red mark to Clarke's skin, right in between the bones.

“Fuck, Lexa,” Clarke moans, her first of the night.

Lexa smirks. “So gorgeous. And hearing you moan out my name like that, in that raspy voice. You drive me wild, Clarke.”

Lexa isn't lying and for the first time since the meal, she finds it difficult to ignore the deep ache between her own legs. She isn't about to surrender and so Lexa quickly changes back to her original, tender strategy, knowing that the constant switching will get Clarke all wound up.

“I love your arms so much,” Lexa says now, letting her fingertips sweep over soft, slightly squishy, biceps, down to Clarke's forearms. “I love how they feel when you wrap them tightly around me. Nothing feels safer than being held close by you. If we were in the middle of a battlefield, you'd only need to embrace me to make me feel invincible. Your arms are home.”

“Lexa--” Clarke whispers Lexa's name now rather than moaning it. The sound, the feeling behind the way Clarke pronounces those two syllables, catches Lexa's attention and she drag her eyes from Clarke's beautiful wrists to stare into Clarke's eyes. She is equal parts thrilled and stunned to find the blue shimmering; Clarke is close to moved tears but does not let any fall from her eyes.

“Are you alright, Clarke?” Lexa asks, she wants to make sure that her words aren't getting too much for Clarke. An eager but silent nod is her reply, and so Lexa studies Clarke's expression just a while longer until she is satisfied that Clarke is okay for her to go on. Lexa lets the pads of her thumbs glance over each of Clarke's wrists, her eyes moving back to watch what she is doing.

“Your wrists are lovely,” Lexa says, and then she feels a great rush of eagerness as her hands clasp Clarke's own, wonderfully dimpled ones. “Your hands are my favorite, ” Lexa states.

Clarke huffs at her. “I thought my face was your favorite.”

“Well I have two favorites,” Lexa insists, “Maybe more. I'll get back to you. But first--” Lexa sweeps her thumbs over the soft backs of Clarke's hands and then she sets her attention on the left one alone. Clarke's dominant hand. Lexa begins to lovingly massage Clarke's fingers, paying special attention to the calloused skin left by charcoal and paintbrush. “I cherish every single thing you can do with these hands, Clarke. The art you make with them, the passion and talent that pours from these fingers out onto the canvas. I love how your hands and fingers feel when you scratch my scalp, or massage the tension from my back after a long day. You speak so many words with these hands. Maybe when you can't find actual words, these fingers tell me I am loved, the feeling of your hand in mine tells me I will always have you at my side.” Lexa stops her massaging and brings Clarke's left hand to her lips, kissing each of Clarke's fingertips, and then her palm. “Of course I can't move on without telling you how wonderful these hands feel when you touch me. Your caresses, your scratches. I love it when they tease and I love it when they give me exactly what I need. Your fingers feel perfect on my body, Clarke. They feel perfect inside me.”

Clarke is still holding her smile back, but the tears in her eyes do start to fall once Lexa lets go of Clarke's hand, leaving it on the mattress where Clarke immediately grabs for a handful of bed cover. Something to grab onto when Lexa’s own body isn't on today's itinerary, perhaps.

Lexa is content to let Clarke's tears fall, for they are happy ones, and lets her wide eyes rove over Clarke's upper body again, making certain there is nowhere she's missed, other than the two obvious bits she's saving for later, before she moves somewhere lower down. She grazes her fingers all the way down Clarke's sides and it earns her a shudder, the contact somewhere torturous between scratch and tickle.

Lexa’s gaze follows the progress of her fingers to the pants slung low on Clarke's hips; wide hips that are perfect for grabbing, so she does. “I love these hips Clarke. The way they move when you walk, the way they buck when I touch you just right, the noises you make when I grab them and pull you in close.”

Lexa looks again to Clarke's pants and decides that Clarke is definitely still overdressed. Lexa uses both hands to pop the button and pull down the zipper simultaneously, eager to see more of her niron. Lexa chuckles as Clarke's hips immediately come off the bed to help her with the removal, “Someone is really quite eager tonight,” Lexa says, slowly working the fabric over Clarke's thighs and ass.

Clarke tuts but says and does nothing. Maybe having learned from the bra debacle earlier, but more likely because she knows Lexa will expect Clarke to say something about removing her knickers too. Clarke will place being unexpected even above being properly stripped. It's a rather heartwarming thing.

“I do love that,” Lexa continues her musing, “How you let me know how much you want me,” Lexa pauses as she fights off a smirk. When she speaks again, her voice has a chill to it, “Do you want me, Clarke?”

Clarke nearly loses her composure at that and almost laughs. Lexa catches the way her lips twitch just barely. Instead Clarke bites her lips and looks at Lexa through lidded eyes and husks, “Always Lexa. Always.”

Lexa keeps her face completely passive as she stops pulling Clarke's pants down, and starts tugging them back up instead. “I love it when you slip up, Clarke. Again. Do you want me?”

Blue eyes grow wider as Clarke tries to fathom how she has slipped up. Lexa keeps tugging Clarke's trousers upwards. She thinks she might even have to zip and button them back up again, when Clarke whispers, “Sha Heda, otaim.”

Lexa wonders very briefly if she's being a little unfair. She's allowed Clarke the use of her name so far, only now she quite wants to hear Clarke use her title. It is still a lesson of sorts after all, and if Lexa wishes to move posts around she can. “I adore the way you pronounce my title, Clarke,” she says, to justify herself a little, “Especially when you use it outside of professional matters. When you moan it over and over. When you scream it out. When my fingers are buried deep inside you.” Lexa glances up towards Clarke's face again as she speaks the last part.

Not even her uncharacteristically dirty mouth breaks Clarke's stubborn resolve and, with no smile or even a wicked smirk forthcoming from her niron, Lexa lets herself soften once more and turns her attention to Clarke's legs. She finally removes Clarke’s trousers with one fell tug and throws them aside, more interested in the inches of flesh she has revealed than where the garment ends up. Lexa's attention roams from toes back to hips, and she decides that starting at the top is the best approach. Mostly because the sight of Clarke's exposed, creamy thighs are too tempting to wait for.

Lexa sits back on her heels, admiring Clarke's thick thighs. Lexa runs her long fingers over the pale skin, and finally breaks her silence. “Your thighs Clarke. If I had the skill to, I’d draw them. They're soft, but strong. I love the way they quiver when your body is spent from pleasure. I adore they way they clamp down around my ears when I put my mouth on you,” Lexa pauses there and nudges Clarke's thighs open with the palms of her hands, “I love spreading them, opening them wide to see the beautiful parts of you that are usually hidden away. The parts that only I get to see.”

Lexa keeps her palms flat, touching as much skin as possible as she massages down to Clarke's knees. She could have lingered between Clarke's thighs. Lexa's mouth waters at the thought. She admires Clarke's own tenacity now, admires how long Clarke held off touching Lexa anywhere very intimate when their roles had been reversed. It's exceedingly difficult to do, especially when in parting Clarke's thighs, Lexa had not failed to notice the visible damp patch on Clarke's underwear. Lexa swallows hard. She tickles underneath Clarke's knee joints and makes Clarke quiver on the mattress.

“I love that we both love being touched here,” Lexa says, finding it a little difficult to keep lust out of her voice, to keep her tone as sweet as her words. She bends at the waist and, while her long fingers trace ticklish patterns over and under Clarke's knees, she contrasts the sensation with that of her teeth and lips on Clarke's left thigh. Lexa bites hard, sucks a mark to the surface of the soft skin low on Clarke's thigh. She dare not venture higher, for she knows the moment she gets too close to the apex of Clarke's legs, if she inhales and catches the scent of Clarke's arousal, then there'll be no stopping herself from tearing Clarke's underwear away and burying her face between Clarke's thighs. That's for later.

For now, Lexa kisses her way past thoroughly tickled knees to lovely, shapely calves. She bites enthusiastically into the muscles on one leg, then the other, earning a hiss of pleasure from Clarke every time her teeth press into skin, leaving more red bite marks in her wake. Leaving Clarke thoroughly claimed. Lexa laughs to herself as she remembers what a task Clarke made of her legs back in Arkadia. Clarke's are much shorter and Lexa soon kisses and scratches her way down to gorgeous ankles.

“So beautiful,” Lexa murmurs against the bony joint. She traces the definition of Clarke's right ankle with the wet tip of her tongue and delights in how it makes Clarke's toes curl. “Your legs are amazing, Clarke. So shapely. I love having them wrapped tight around me. When we sleep. When I'm using my fingers to fuck you.”

Clarke lets out what sounds like an involuntary groan at Lexa's words. The near feral noise sends a shock of pleasure through Lexa's body, leaves her humming with it, with the need to hear more sounds like it from Clarke's mouth. To distract herself, Lexa lowers Clarke's foot into her lap. She starts to massage its sole, pressing firm circles from toes to heel with her thumbs. “I love looking after you like this,” Lexa says. She repeats the brief massage on the other foot. Still no smile, even for such a gesture. Lexa tries not to pout. “On your tummy, Clarke,” she orders, not harshly, but brusque enough.

Clarke follows the instruction, rolling onto her tummy with no protest. With not much of anything. Lexa kisses her way up the back of Clarke's right leg, stops at the small shelf of Clarke's ass.

“Do you want me to stop?” she asks gently.

Clarke's blonde curls tussle as Clarke lifts her head from the pillow and shakes her head, “Don't you dare,” she warns, and her voice is heavy with emotion. She's just doing extremely well at keeping it from her expression. A rarity for Clarke and more proof that her stubbornness in these games they play is quite without bounds.

Lexa responds to Clarke’s choked out warning by scratching over the covered flesh of Clarke's ass. She raises a palm and brings it down in a testing smack, earning her a moan of delight from Clarke. It's the closest thing to what Clarke has been after all along that Lexa has given her. She smacks again, harder.

“Take my underwear off,” Clarke urges, “Mark me properly, Heda. Please.”

A begging Clarke is a special thing, and not to be denied. Still, Lexa will do as she pleases and not as Clarke wants. Instead of removing Clarke's knickers, she simply drags them down over Clarke's ass and out of the way for now. Lexa takes in the pale skin of Clarke's cute, little bum. She massages each cheek lovingly.

“I love your adorable, little ass, Clarke,” she begins, and then she raises her hand again and brings it down hard. A delicious smack echoes in the room, followed quickly by Clarke's even louder moan. Lexa soothes the area with a rub, spanks again. And again, until her chosen cheek is bright red. She switches over to its counterpart. “I love it when you misbehave. When you let me teach you lessons. When you let me mark you like this. To remind you to whom you owe fealty.” Each sentence is punctuated with a smack and an accompanying moan. Moans which quickly turn raspy and desperate.

Lexa feels her face grow uncomfortably hot as she realises that Clarke is grinding down against the mattress in time to each hit. She doesn't let her next smack make contact, instead brings her hand down gently to soothe the red skin of Clarke's ass. She brings her lips to the soft flesh and gently kisses and nuzzles at the handprint marks on Clarke's cheeks for good measure, before resolutely pulling Clarke's underwear back up. Heda retreats once again, though Lexa almost caves one more time at the sound of Clarke sighing about the rough fun being done for now.

Sticking to her attack, Lexa moves upwards to Clarke's wonderful back. She glides a single finger up Clarke's spine, traces over a shoulder blade. Clarke's skin is deliciously cool to the touch, even now when Clarke's body is noticeably heaving from the laboured breathing of pleasure. The plane of Clarke's bare back suddenly reminds Lexa that she is completely dressed still and Lexa smiles. She tears her fingers away from Clarke's smooth skin and ambles to the end of the bed on her knees. She sits on the edge of the mattress.

“Keep your head down and your eyes closed. You don't get a performance today,” Lexa instructs when Clarke immediately lifts her head at the lost contact to seek Lexa out. Once Clarke has buried her face into her pillow again, Lexa makes quick work of stripping, and unlike with Clarke, she does not stop when she reaches her underwear but keeps going until she is totally naked. She folds her clothes and tucks them under the bed and then climbs back onto the mattress. She peers down at Clarke again and, a little disappointed at the fact, concedes that the effect of what she has planned just won't be right unless Clarke is totally naked to.

At last, Lexa reaches down and undoes the clasp on Clarke's bra, stroking skin as she pushes the two ends away and onto the mattress. She does the same with the straps and Clarke props herself up with one arm and then the other until the garment is totally removed. Lexa faces her biggest challenge yet as she fights away the burning desire to thrust her palms between the mattress and Clarke's now very exposed tits. Instead she shuffles and removes Clarke's underwear.

With the both of them naked, Lexa urges Clarke to part her legs with a pat of the hand and she shimmies into the space. She braces her weight on her hands as if doing a pushup, and gently lowers herself down until her naked front is totally flush with Clarke's bare back. She hears Clarke gasp at the unexpected, total intimacy. Lexa settles her weight atop Clarke and buries her face into Clarke's hair, content to simply enjoy the feeling of being as physically close as she can possibly be to her niron.

“I love when our bodies are pressed close together like this,” Lexa whispers the words right into Clarke’s ear. “When you embrace me. When we make love. I love the feeling of your skin against mine. The way you are cool where I am warm, so that we even out.”

Lexa traces the shell of Clarke's ear with her tongue, nips and tugs at it with her teeth. Before speaking again, she shifts to the other ear and gives it a nuzzle so that it doesn't feel left out.

“I love the way we fit together, Clarke,” Lexa continues now. The words come so easy for they are written on Lexa's very soul. She is only reciting really. “How you are soft where I am hard. You compliment me so beautifully, Clarke. I love that I have no doubt in my mind that we make each other better versions of ourselves. There's no question that our souls belong together.” Lexa pauses and sweeps Clarke's hair to one side so that she can press a few hot kisses to the back of Clarke's neck. “When we are here like this. Skin to skin. Open and honest and without walls, I don't have to be hard. I can be soft too. Because I'm safe at home.”

Lexa feels herself rolling to the side and onto the mattress as Clarke twists about. Lexa barely has time to comprehend what's going on before Clarke is on top of her, front to front now, and kissing her fiercely. Clarke's kisses are deep and wet and her cheeks are wet too. Lexa kisses back with all of her might, her hands finding and cupping Clarke's teary cheeks. When they part, gasping for air, Lexa is met by shining, wide blue eyes.

“Lexa, I love you so much,” Clarke gushes, “You'll never know how much. I couldn’t describe it.” A slow blink brings fresh tears and Lexa catches their fall with her thumbs. “Just know that I will always be your home, Lexa,” Clarke assures now. “And you will never need to be anything but you for as long as you're home with me.”

It isn't the smile Lexa has been battling all this time for, but something even better. Lexa feels her heart thud and she swallows hard, feeling her own tears forming in her eyes. What a pair they make. It won’t do. Clarke seems to think the same.

“Please will you finish my lesson, Heda?” she asks. Given all the tears, the sound of her title nearly makes Lexa snort. Even so, Clarke's request shall not be denied.

“Lie back, niron,” Lexa urges. She gets a pout in return and Lexa rolls her eyes. “On your back, Ambassador,” she snaps instead and only then does Clarke do as asked.

Lexa picks herself up onto her knees and gazes down at Clarke, letting her greedy eyes roam from eyes, to lips, and at last to Clarke's wonderfully bare breasts.

Lexa drinks in the sight of Clarke’s tits, “I love your breasts Clarke,” Lexa breathes out, ghosting the tips of her fingers over the wonderfully soft globes, avoiding the nipples, for now. “They’re so soft, so perfect, in or out of clothing. So utterly distracting when you borrow my shirts. Or walk around our quarters totally naked.” Lexa smirks at a few pleasant memories, before raking her fingernails gently over Clarke’s dusky pink nipples, smiling as they pucker and harden, “Your nipples are so sensitive to my touch, I love how they respond to my fingers,” Lexa uses her hands now to cup the generous swells, hefting their weight, lifting them. “Your tits feel so good in my hands, Clarke. They were made for me to grab them. They must have been. Look how perfectly they fit in my palms.”

Clarke's chest heaves in response to Lexa's squeezing and kneading, the motion of her ribcage pressing Clarke's flesh against Lexa's hands more firmly. Lexa toys with the handfuls even more greedily, more devotedly. She massages the pale globes with her fingertips, brushes her palms teasingly over the reddish tips of Clarke's nipples. Lexa never moves her eyes away from her work, enjoying the sight of Clarke's breasts covered by her hands. She can hear Clarke's breath quickening with each second of contact.

Lexa can't help herself, and she loosens her grip and lets go, letting Clarke's breasts drop just to watch them wobble. “I love this, Clarke. How they fall. Especially when I fuck you hard and deep and they bounce up and down. It's hypnotizing.”

“If you’d fuck me already, you’d see them bounce, Lex,” Clarke huffs, cheeks flushed from finally being touched intimately.

Lexa tugs each nipple in response to Clarke’s cheek, hard enough to make Clarke hiss. “Patience, Ambassador, or you will not get what you’re after,” Lexa warns, making eye contact with her insolent niron.

Clarke rolls her eyes at Lexa’s tone but remains mercifully quiet.

“Good girl, learning already. I think you deserve to be rewarded for that,” Lexa murmurs, leaning in to take a pert nipple into her mouth, biting down sharply, then soothing the sting with a warm, wet tongue. She grins against soft flesh when Clarke lets out a throaty moan and Clarke’s lower body leaves the mattress a moment. Lexa moves her mouth away, leaving Clarke’s nipple coated in saliva, “I love that the most. How when I play with your tits just right, your hips buck off the bed and you moan.”

Lexa isn’t quick to put her mouth back on Clarke, knowing that Clarke will expect just that. Instead she lets out a contented sigh and lowers herself down until her head is resting upon Clarke's chest. Lexa even lets her eyes flutter shut a while.

“You are the most perfectly comfortable pillow, Clarke,” Lexa whispers. “I adore it when you let me rest my head against your breasts while I read my books.” Lexa pauses there, listening to the thudding emanating from under her ear. “I love laying my head on you and listening to your heartbeat until I fall asleep. Most especially after a night of making love to you.”

Done being sappy, Lexa props herself up to get a good look at Clarke in all her uncovered glory. Her eyes dart from one breast to the other and then fixate on the lovely valley between them. “I especially love your skin under my tongue, in my mouth, I love the way you taste,” Lexa murmurs, ducking her head to run her tongue along Clarke's cleavage, drinking in the taste of her niron and nuzzling her cheek against Clarke's softness. Lexa's right hand finds Clarke's left breast as her mouth finds Clarke's right nipple, nipping and sucking at the bud with renewed vigor.

Lexa smirks as she feels Clarke's hands on her head, trying to push her down her body. Lexa, however is just as stubborn as Clarke, and refuses to budge, instead moving her mouth lower and sucking at the delicate skin on the underside of Clarke's breast, determined to mark Clarke.

Clarke whimpers and paws more desperately at Lexa’s head, silently begging her to move lower. Lexa makes a grab at Clarke's hands, holding them still and communicating that Lexa is going to do what Lexa wants, not what Clarke wants.

Clearly annoyed, Clarke speaks, “Lexa please, I need you.” Her words come out in a hoarse whine.

Smirking, Lexa lifts her head just enough to speak, “Oh no Ambassador, not yet.”

Emboldened by the neediness in Clarke's voice and enamored by Clarke's tits, and needing more of them, Lexa pushes Clarke's tits together and takes both nipples into her mouth, sucking and lapping at them, flitting her tongue between the two hardened nubs.

“Fuck, Lexa!” Clarke exclaims, clearly unprepared for the double onslaught. Her hips buck furiously, seeking out friction that isn't there to be found.

Lexa's total exploration of Clarke's body is, for the moment, totally forgotten. Even with her mouth wrapped around both of Clarke's nipples, hands pawing at the soft globes to keep them pushed together, she feels like she will never get her fill of these tits. Lexa has used all the words she could muster to describe their infinite appeal, her love for them. Now, actions will just have to speak even louder. She at last lets her mouth leave Clarke's chest, leaving each nipple as wet and shiny as the other. The effect is delectable and Lexa hardly takes a breath before biting down hard on Clarke's left nipple.

“Fuck,” Clarke curses a second time, and then a third and fourth as Lexa tugs the sensitive bud with her teeth.

Lexa feels as Clarke's hands leave her head to claw encouragingly at her back, Clarke's nails raking over the defined muscles, digging in for the duration. Lexa responds to the clawing by letting up on Clarke's nipple, only to bite down on the soft breast tissue just above it. Lexa sucks the flesh hard and when she pulls back, she leaves yet another mark behind her.

“Lexa. Heda, please, please,” Clarke is panting now, “Fuck me now. I need you to-- fuck Lexa.”

Clarke's begging does not go unheard, Lexa just chooses not to heed it. It is a difficult thing to do, but Lexa knows that tearing get herself away from Clarke's chest when she isn't sated would perhaps be even more difficult. She continues her onslaught, letting her hand take over on Clarke's left breast while her mouth revisits the right. Lexa bites and sucks, mirroring her movements on Clarke’s left breast with fingers; pinching and squeezing.

Clarke’s hips buck furiously, desperately seeking friction, but Lexa makes sure to keep herself maddeningly out of reach. Lexa bites down even harder on Clarke’s nipple and Clarke doesn't even curse in response now, instead she lets out an almost pitiful whine at the pleasure provided by Lexa’s mouth, and the pain of being denied. Lexa finds herself smiling against Clarke's flesh. She wonders how badly Clarke must be aching by now. Aching to be touched where Lexa just isn't ready to venture yet.

“Lexa,” Clarke rasps out.

Lexa finds a modicum of generosity and her mouth leaves nipple to attach itself firmly to the pale skin at the side of Clarke’s tit. She wants to hear what Clarke has to say for herself.

“Lexa if you aren't going to move,” Clarke’s voice is so husky it makes Lexa shiver, “ then don’t stop. Just don't you fucking stop.”

Lexa needs no encouragement but Clarke gives it anyway. Lexa grunts against Clarke's breast as nails scratch over her shoulders, and then Clarke's hands are buried in her hair again to prevent Lexa from moving her mouth away. She allows just enough give for Lexa to move her lips back round a painfully hard nipple. Clarke pushes Lexa’s mouth tighter to her and Lexa responds by flicking her tongue harder over the nub. Her face is pressed too close to Clarke to see anything however, and with Clarke's body writhing beneath her, Lexa needs to be able to watch the spectacle.

It takes a lot of Lexa's considerable strength to push back against Clarke's hold on her head. Her mouth leaves Clarke's nipple at last, and Lexa fights until she is up on her knees. Clarke curses her the entire time, though those curses soon morph back into loud moans as Lexa palms both tits and attacks both nipples with her thumbs, her other digits kneading and caressing as much of each globe as they can.

From her vantage point, Lexa can truly appreciate the sight before her. Clarke's hips canting wildly off the bed. Her chest heaving under Lexa's busy hands. The droplets of sweat on pale skin that make Lexa's mouth water. And best of all, Clarke's head thrown back, eyes squeezed shut in pleasure, mouth open as a continuous stream of curses and moans and hisses spill from Clarke's lips.

Lexa quickens the pace of her thumbs, circling the slightly rough pads over the very tip of each nipple. Her fingers dig into soft flesh harder, firm enough to leave finger marks.

“You look so beautiful like this, Clarke,” Lexa whispers in reverence. Her hands never ever stop.

“Fuck, Lexa, fuck--don’t stop, please don’t stop, I think I’m gonna--Lexa, Lexaaa--”

Lexa's ears ring at the wonderful sound of her name, catching in Clarke's throat and releasing instead as a scream as Clarke climaxes. Lexa isn't entirely convinced it's really happening at first and nearly loses pace, but the way that Clarke's entire body starts to tremble before her eyes is proof enough that Clarke is coming. Coming for her, for Lexa, and without a single touch between her thighs.

Lexa's ministrations slow and eventually stop, guiding Clarke through until her shaking subsides, the effects not lasting as long as they do usually, but that does little to dispel Lexa's own pleasure. She tries her best to keep her face passive as she waits for Clarke to ground herself and for Clarke's eyes to flutter open.

Clarke finds Lexa's eyes and she is not as successful at hiding her feelings anymore. She breaks out into a gorgeous, wide grin.

“Did you just?” Lexa breathes out, deciding that she needs to ask to make absolutely and positively sure.

“I did,” is all Clarke responds with. Lexa is thrilled to hear disbelief in Clarke's voice.

“Are you alright, niron?”, Lexa murmurs, already knowing the answer.

Clarke’s only response is twinkling eyes and a giggle that's broken up by deep pants for air, “So good babe. So good. Get up here so I can kiss you.”

Lexa cracks a smile at that, lopsided and as charming as she can manage, and scoots up to kiss Clarke. The kiss is soft and tender, the barest hint of tongues. Clarke breaks the kiss and pushes Lexa back by her shoulders, blinking her eyes to bring Lexa back into focus.

“Lex, how long is your face going to be that way, babe?” Clarke asks.

Lexa sits back up on her heels and grins wider, “Like what, niron?”, asks Lexa, attempting to be innocent, but unable to keep the pride from her voice.

“It's gone all smug. Stop looking so charming. It's hardly the first time you’ve made me come,” Clarke huffs.

“Yes, Clarke, that’s true. But, it is the first time I’ve done it without ever touching you here,” Lexa hums, running a lone finger along Clarke’s glistening pussy, a barely there graze of her fingertip along Clarke’s slit.

Clarke's hips buck involuntarily at Lexa’s touch and Lexa quickly retracts her finger. “Lexa,” Clarke gasps, “no one likes a tease.”

Lexa laughs, “Says the biggest tease there, is, niron. But don't worry, I'm not done with you yet. How should I have you?” Lexa asks, scooting down the bed and coming to rest on her belly in between Clarke's thighs. “With my fingers, filling you up, stretching you so good? Or with my tongue, drinking you up?” Lexa asks, semi seriously and delaying the inevitable that much longer.

Clarke lets out a whimper at Lexa’s words and murmurs out a strangled “Yes please, babe,” that makes Lexa smile. Clarke doesn't specify what the yes was to.

“So greedy, niron, always so greedy. I love that about you. How much you want me.” Lexa runs her fingers through the small patch of golden curls that cover Clarke's mound. “You were right, you do have golden curls somewhere other than your head. I might like these ones more. I love that they are the first clue to the decadence that I'm about to enjoy.” Lexa places a small kiss atop the coarse hairs and turns her attention further down Clarke's pussy.

Lexa takes in Clarke's generous, petal like inner lips, spilling over Clarke's small outer ones. “You're so perfect Clarke. I love your lips. They way they hide you, the way they collect every delicious drop of you that you have to offer,” Lexa says, amazed as she spreads Clarke open, delicately, mouth watering as pink lips part and a glistening slit comes into view. “So wet for me, niron. You look so good and you smell divine. My mouth waters at your scent. My lips were made for this pussy, made for pleasing you,” Lexa finishes, removing her hand and pulling Clarke's deliciously thick lips into her mouth, sucking and pulling, reveling in their taste and texture, delighting in how good they feel against her lips and her tongue. Lexa teases, pushing between soaked folds, tongue barely slipping into Clarke, just enough to make Clarke’s hips buck and to earn Lexa a whine of frustration.

Lexa pulls her mouth away, eyes wide with lust. “The best part of you is still hidden. That little bud I love so much,” Lexa says, using her fingers to spread Clarke wide again, the tip of her thumb gently pushing back Clarke's generous hood, revealing a small, shy clit, shiny and pink. Lexa stares for a moment, not having the words to say how much she likes Clarke's clit.

“You’re breathtaking, Clarke,” Lexa tries in a reverent whisper. It still doesn't begin to cover her true thoughts. Lexa concedes and instead of words she uses her mouth for a much better purpose, and captures the small nub between her lips, sucking hard and flicking it with the wet tip of her tongue. Clarke lets loose the most wonderful moan of delight in response, and though Lexa could hear the noise over and over and never get tired of it, she relents and releases Clarke’s clit with a satisfied hum. Wanting to prolong her ministrations for just a little longer than she knows Clarke will be able to stand, Lexa starts all over again, moving her mouth and fingers away so that Clarke’s very center is hidden once more.

“Lexa--” Clarke begins to protest, almost meekly. Lexa lets Clarke get no further, halting the words by sinking her teeth into the soft flesh of Clarke’s inner thigh, turning whines to delighted hisses.

Lexa soothes her teeth marks with her tongue, biting and sucking at Clarke's leg. Lexa moves up slowly to the apex of Clarke's thigh, running her tongue along the the border of thigh and mound, the barest hint of coarse curls under her tongue. Lexa takes a minute to inhale Clarke's scent, never able to get over how delicious it is. She nuzzles affectionately at golden curls as she breathes deeply, moves her head lower until her mouth is hovering over Clarke’s folds. Lexa forgoes the tempting sight for just a little longer, letting soft, warm breaths tease Clarke’s sensitive skin before kissing gently at each of Clarke’s pale outer lips in turn. The palm of her left hand splays itself over Clarke’s tummy, and Lexa can feel the tension there, the anticipation for what is next. Lexa plants one more kiss, this time to Clarke’s inner lips. It is soft, barely even there, and when Lexa pulls back, her eyes search upwards for Clarke’s face.

“Clarke,” Lexa husks, “look at me, niron”. Lexa waits until Clarke's blue eyes meet hers, and slowly lowers her mouth onto Clarke, never breaking eye contact. Lexa takes as much of Clarke’s pussy into her hot mouth as she can, drawing soaked folds onto her tongue, groaning at the taste. She watches for Clarke’s reactions, smiles against Clarke when she sees her niron struggling to keep her own eyes open, a struggle that Lexa only makes more difficult as she pushes her tongue between slick folds, lapping up everything Clarke has to offer, head bobbing in rhythm to provide extra friction. She pointedly avoids the area around Clarke’s clit, tasting every fold, every hidden place thoroughly except for there.

“Lexa, fuck, please,” Clarke gasps out. Lexa’s head ceases its movement and Lexa stills her tongue. She raises a single eyebrow as she peers up from between Clarke’s thighs. Clarke’s jaw is visibly tensed and when Clarke opens her mouth, Lexa can see her bottom lip tremble, “Please, Heda.”

Satisfied, Lexa draws her mouth away and brings her right hand to Clarke’s mound, scratching lightly over Clarke’s curls before using her fingers to spread Clarke wide open. Lexa allows herself to glance down at her target for a second, her eyes widening in delight as she thumbs back Clarke’s hood to reveal the bud beneath again. Then, her eyes seek out Clarke’s own once more, gazes lock, and Lexa delicately wraps her lips around Clarke's shiny, pink clit. Lexa hums in satisfaction as Clarke's hips buck off the bed and Clarke's fingers tangle in her hair.

“Lex, fuck, yes. Your tongue is so good,” Clarke moans, pulling Lexa closer to her with an insistent tug at Lexa’s hair.

With her mouth full, Lexa can only suck and flick at Clarke's clit with growing fervor. Emboldened by Clarke’s praise, Lexa drops lower and teases her tongue around Clarke's entrance, drinking in Clarke's arousal, the tip of her tongue barely pushing inside.

“Lexa, please, I need you. Fuck me,” Clarke begs, “Fuck me, Heda.”

Lexa thrusts her tongue into Clarke, getting in as deep as she can, letting Clarke coat her tongue. Lexa’s eyes roll back in her head as she drinks Clarke in, and she knows then that she has to say something, has to tell Clarke how amazing she tastes. Lexa pulls her lips away from Clarke's perfect pussy just enough to say, “Jok, Clarke. I could live on your taste alone.”

“What--” Clarke breathes the word out between heaving gasps for air, “What about honey cakes?” she manages, voice scratchy.

Lexa has to grin, surprised that Clarke still possesses the capacity to make jokes. She feels equally impressed and determined to make sure that Clarke won’t be able to do so again. “They don’t come close,” Lexa responds, still beaming up at Clarke like a fool. “Nothing comes close to you, Clarke.”

Lexa’s grin subsides to a smirk as she feels Clarke’s fingers stroke lovingly at the fine hairs on the nape of her neck. Then, Lexa feels her head being urged down onto Clarke again, and Lexa knows that this time, there will be no stopping her.

Lexa flattens her tongue and gives Clarke a broad lick from bottom to top, pausing there to flick firmly at Clarke's clit, making Clarke shudder in time to each flutter of her tongue. Clarke’s pussy thrums under her mouth and Lexa dips lower, slipping her tongue back inside, wanting Clarke to surround her,to feel Clarke's inner walls squeezing around her. Lexa sets a slow, deep pace with her tongue, tasting as much of Clarke as she can.

Lexa feels Clarke's hips start to roll as Clarke grinds against her face. Clarke's thighs start to press in against her ears, locking Lexa's head in place and shutting Lexa off from the rest of the world. Lexa feels Clarke's pussy coat her nose, lips, and cheeks in delicious arousal and adjusts her pace to match Clarke's bucking hips. Lexa moans into Clarke as she feels Clarke's hands fist tighter than ever in her hair, pulling harshly, trying to get Lexa closer, even though Lexa is already as close as she can be.

“Fuck, Lexa. More,” Clarke gasps, grinding so erratically that Lexa is forced to close her eyes as Clarke uses her whole face to find the friction she craves, “Heda, please, use your fingers. Your fingers and your mouth. Fuck me.”

Lexa cannot deny such a frantic request and almost seamlessly slips her tongue out of Clarke, replacing it with two fingers, pressing them against Clarke's front wall as she enters. Lexa's mouth finds Clarke's clit again, and she sucks it into her mouth, past full lips and onto her warm, wet tongue. Lexa's thrusts with her hand are quicker and harder than her tongue could ever be and she knows it's exactly what drives Clarke wild.

“Yes, Lexa, fuck yes,” Clarke moans, hips still bucking, chasing her orgasm on Lexa’s fingers. A beautiful, wet sound accompanies every firm thrust. “Please, Heda, more. Please,” Clarke chokes out, begging.

Lexa adds a third finger on her next thrust and Clarke let's out something that sounds like a choked whine as Lexa fills her up.

The rhythmic, wet slap of Lexa’s fingers picking up their rhythm again, pumping into Clarke, are soon accompanied by a never ending chant of curse and Lexa’s title. “Fuck. Heda, Heda, fuck me…” Clarke moans out, each word louder and more strangled than the last.

Lexa's head spins at the feeling of Clarke’s pussy stretching and pulsing around her buried fingers. Clarke’s thighs are now dangerously tight against her skull, but Lexa does not let that deter her. Lexa flicks her tongue against Clarke's clit, her rhythm perfect, matching her fingers and Clarke's hips, applying just the right amount of pressure to get Clarke to fall over the edge. Lexa knows she's successful as Clarke goes rigid, her back arching clean off the mattress before she collapses back onto the bed, trembling and cursing loudly. Lexa lifts her greedy hand from Clarke's shuddering tummy to pull one of Clarke's locked thighs away from her head before the force cracks Lexa's skull.

“Fuck Lexa, fuck. You're so good. I--”, whatever Clarke means to say is lost to a prolonged scream as the waves of her orgasm course through her, and Lexa smiles as she works Clarke through the rest of them with lazy twirls and flicks of her tongue. Finally, when Clarke's trembling slows and her breathing becomes more even, Lexa pulls her mouth away. She leaves her fingers buried inside, not wanting Clarke to feel empty too soon, and enjoying the residual flutters of Clarke's pussy. Lexa grins toothily up at Clarke, feeling rather pleased with her performance.

Instead of protesting against such obvious smugness, this time Clarke rasps out a laugh and she smiles back just as widely. Lexa remembers now that seeing Clarke smile had been the ultimate objective and so she delicately withdraws her fingers and crawls up over Clarke's body until Clarke's smiling mouth is in range for a deep, languid kiss.

Lexa pulls back and meets Clarke's eyes. Both of them are smiling again. “I love seeing you smile, Clarke. And to hear you laugh. To know that you are happy is a blessing. To think that I may sometimes be the cause of that happiness means more to me than I could ever tell you.”

Clarke lets out a gasp in response. “It's more than sometimes, darling” she says, voice hoarse and barely above a sleepy whisper.

Lexa kisses Clarke once more. “Thank you, niron. Thank you for letting me love you. Thank you for loving me. And most of all, thank you for just being you.”

Lexa watches as Clarke's eyes well up with tears for the second time. Clarke’s hands cup Lexa’s face and Lexa allows Clarke to pull her close. Clarke places sweet open mouth kisses to her lips and cheeks, cleaning up her face and tasting herself on Lexa's skin. Lexa doesn’t say a word about the warm tears she can feel covering her cheeks, undoing the progress of Clarke's lips. Clarke keeps up with her kissing valiantly until at last she pulls away, and Lexa watches as Clarke lets her tears fall unashamedly.

Lexa kisses the tears from Clarke's cheeks, before rolling over onto her back and pulling Clarke with her. “I didn't mean to make you cry twice, niron,” Lexa whispers, nuzzling at Clarke's hair.

“You probably didn't set out to make me come just from my nipples either, but these things happen, Lex,” comes Clarke's retort.

Lexa breathes out a satisfied sigh at the reminder. “Hmm, yes. My legacy.”

Clarke snorts at that, “What legacy, babe?”

Lexa's face gets very serious before she replies, “You know, visionary peacemaker, swordmaster, sex goddess, the usual.”

Clarke lets out a full on belly laugh at that, and through giggles gets out, “Babe, you're a noodle with good lips, don't get conceited.”

“I love that about you too Clarke. You indulge me, and also know when to rein me in. And your teasing, I do love how much you enjoy driving me to distraction at the most inopportune times.” Lexa murmurs. “Just think, if you hadn't have been so misbehaved at dinner, we'd never have discovered that I, Heda Lexa kom Trikru, can make a woman orgasm just from touching her breasts.”

Clarke makes a noise of consideration. “Nor would we have discovered new realms of smugness,” Clarke tuts. “I suppose I did enjoy this rather unusual lesson, though,” she admits, “but whatever am I supposed to do now when I want Heda to punish me? You've clearly wizened up to my games.” Lexa can practically hear Clarke pouting.

“All you have to do is ask, niron. It's as simple as that,” Lexa replies, matter of factly.

Clarke snuggles closer to Lexa, her head coming to rest upon Lexa's breast. “Fine,” Clarke mumbles through a sleepy yawn, “but next time I'm playing with your tits until you come.”

“You can certainly try, niron. For now, sleep,” Lexa says, scratching soothingly at Clarke's scalp.

“Don't you think I can manage it?” Clarke talks on.

Lexa allows herself an eye roll. “Clarke. Shh--”

“Shhh,” Clarke lets out simultaneously, reading Lexa like a book as usual. Even so, Clarke falls quiet after that and soon her breathing slows and deepens as Clarke succumbs to sleep.

Lexa feels her own eyes shutting, all the running hot and cold has quite exhausted her. Lexa fights it just long enough to pull the fur cover over herself and Clarke and to make a mental note to tell Clarke when they wake up just how much Lexa loves to have her just like this, pressed against Lexa's chest, one arm and one leg thrown possessively over Lexa's frame, skin to skin. The love that Lexa feels as she drifts into sleep is only heightened by the knowledge that her love is returned equally by Clarke. Of all the things Lexa finds wondrous about Clarke, that is perhaps the most astounding.

**Author's Note:**

> She did a cry


End file.
